Initiative
by Crescent Moon19
Summary: She had been the one, this time, to take the initiative. Backbones grow and walls crumble in the events that ensue. Oneshot Literati


**A/N: Crescent Moon19's return to fanfiction! Only this time, I wrote a little Literati one-shot. Yay! Strictly a one-shot-- consider this an extremely late Valentine's day gift... or an extremely extremely early holiday gift... or a yay-we're-on-President's-Week-break gift... CHALLENGE ON BOTTOM**

Takes place around the 3rd season, after they've gotten together but before he leaves for California. Basically that period of time when things started to go wrong.

_Disclaimer: 525,600 minutes from now, I still will not own anything that is even remotely related to Gilmore Girls, which is rather sad but true, and since I can't figure out a decent rhyme for "girls," I'll just stare at my shoe._

* * *

**Initiative**

She had been the one to take the initiative.

She had stormed into his room, turned off his music (because no matter how angry she was, she couldn't just pull the plug out of its socket), took his book gently from his hands (because all books, no matter their owner, should be treated properly), and planted herself solidly in front of his stoic face (and shocked eyes).

"We're going out."

* * *

He finds himself following her dark blue jacket, the shade her eyes currently were, angry, determined. 

He finds himself wondering why in the world he was forgiven, instead of forgotten, like he should be. Why does she still want anything to do with him? (Why does he never call her when he says he will? Why won't his defenses fall, even for this angel that he doesn't deserve? Why can't he ever answer his own questions?)

"Why are you here?"

(It's out before he can stop it, and not what he meant to ask in the first place.)

* * *

She freezes in her tracks, wondering how she can answer this simple question. How she can explain the sudden impulse that gripped her, telling her to go to him, not to wait for him to come to her. Wondering how to explain that said impulse had left no time for lists, no time for talking with someone (and therefore being talked out of it), not even time to plan what she was going to do. 

To plan what she was going to do—what was she going to do? No car, no money (baggage from the no planning stage), and every place in Stars Hollow reminded her (and consequently, him) of memories gone bad, of cheating and breakups, of friendship and hate.

_Why are you here?_ The question stubbornly repeats itself in her mind, and she is startled to realize that he is still waiting for an answer.

"Just wanted to."

She continues her slightly less than angry strides, a destination suddenly in mind.

* * *

He accepts her words, knowing that he has used this excuse before. Déjà vu. 

He slows down when he realizes where she is going. He slows down even more when he realizes that he knows this stupid town well enough to know where she is going. He almost stops when he realizes that this stupid town is slowly becoming home—all because of her.

He wonders, once again, what has possessed her to do all of this, why his god damn walls won't fall (why he is so afraid of being hurt).

He has decided that it is his Mariano genes acting up. When the going gets tough, a Mariano gets going. He has decided that if he runs, he will be proving the entire town right. He has decided that he doesn't want to do that, he wants to be the first Mariano to be tough, to stay and fix his screwed up life, but only with her help. Always with her help. (He has decided that he is too stubborn for his own good sometimes.)

"Ok."

(He has decided that being stubborn is good.)

* * *

She senses, rather than sees, the suddenly intimidating tree in front of her and that he has stopped following her. 

She knows that it is now or never.

"We're here Jess. Talk to me."

Her voice is more pleading than she intends.

His walls collapse, finally, completely against his wishes (and completely with his wishes).

* * *

They spend the rest of the afternoon and much of the night talking. He about his past, his present, and his hopes for the future. How he wants to graduate, make something of himself. How he is afraid of being hurt. (How he loves her.) She about her so called perfection, her sheltered life, and her innocence. How she wants to break out of the shell, to become part of the harsh real world. How she is afraid of disappointing someone. (How she loves him.)

* * *

She glances at her watch. It is almost midnight; 11:58 pm to be exact. 

The streets are wet (from what they don't know) and the lights are dim (strange how Taylor doesn't fix his beloved town's streetlamps).

Her gate is locked. She looks at him, straight into his eyes, and asks.

"Will you let me in?"

They both understand the meaning behind this simple question.

"Consider it done."

* * *

**A/N: This extremely short drabble was written in about an hour, so really, what do you expect? THE END OF THE STORY IS BASED ON A SONG... ANY GUESSES FOR WHICH IT IS? -- Just one of my ways of getting people to review, so reviews/feedback would be much appreciated. It'd be nice to know that people actually read my attempts at writing. **

**-Crescent Moon19**


End file.
